


it's gonna look like mud

by thescrewtapedemos



Category: Bandom, The Front Bottoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Pining, just shameless sap and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 20:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5512754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescrewtapedemos/pseuds/thescrewtapedemos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s just a high school crush, Brian decides. He’ll deal with it and in a few months it’ll be gone, like it never happened, an embarrassing story to bring up when there’s a safe few years between the cab of this truck and them. Hey, Mat, remember that spring when I had a weird stupid crush on you? Good times, man, good times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's gonna look like mud

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm in sellachich hell nice to meet you. this is an attempt to exorcise this from my system which, we'll see how well that works. title from, of course, twin size mattress by the front bottoms. enjoy xoxo.

“Hey,” says Mat, and Brian looks up from the painstaking dick he’d been drawing on the side of his shoe. “You waited.” 

He sounds pleased. It makes Brian smile, leaning his cheek against his knee and squinting at Mat from the corner of his eye. He’s a distorted giant from this angle, ten miles of leg and a teensy tiny little head balanced on top. 

“You’re out early,” he observes for something to say. 

“Ms. Polstead likes me,” Mat explains and toes Brian’s spine with his dirty sneaker. He’s not smiling yet but he’s about to. Brian can tell. They’ve got a whole late-March afternoon ahead of them now and nothing to do with it at all. 

“You gotta stop getting detentions, man,” Brian says and stands, brushing gravel and dead leaves from his ass. “It’s a fucking drag.” 

He turns in time to catch Mat twisting awkwardly to get into his backpack. There’s a moment, a thoughtless little moment when Mat’s hair is catching watery February sunlight and he’s smiling a little bit to himself and he’s probably five goddamn seconds from humming some little tune. Brian knows him so, so stupidly well. 

_Yes_ , Brian’s head goes. 

_Wait, shit_ , the rest of him goes. 

“Eat shit, Brian,” Mat says cheerfully.

//

“You’re quiet,” Mat observes later, in the car. They’re in the McDonald’s parking lot, the remains of three McChickens in Brian’s lap and a pile of fries on the console between them. Mat’s not done yet, still biting into his Big Mac and dribbling ketchup thoughtlessly down his chin. It’s gross.

Brian can’t stop sneaking little glances. 

_Yes, yes, yes_ , something fizzy and nervous in his chest goes every time. It’s gay. It’s really gay. 

Brian thinks he kind of likes it. He thinks he kind of likes _Mat_. 

It’s _really_ gay. 

“Just thinking some shit through,” he says belatedly and stuffs a handful of French fries into his mouth to save himself from having to talk any more. Mat isn’t paying a lot of attention anyway, he’s just noticed he dripped ketchup onto his jeans and he’s pawing through the bags and wrappers to see if they’d been given any napkins. 

Brian’s chest still flips over when he glances at Mat sidewise. 

“You alright?” Mat asks, still preoccupied with his ketchup pants. 

It’s just a high school crush, Brian decides. He’ll deal with it and in a few months it’ll be gone, like it never happened, an embarrassing story to bring up when there’s a safe few years between the cab of this truck and them. Hey, Mat, remember that spring when I had a weird stupid crush on you? Good times, man, good times. 

“It’s just a crush,” Brian says. 

Mat looks across at him for a long moment. A calculating look. 

“Alright,” he says at last, and stuffs the entire rest of his burger into his mouth in one go.

//

Later, much later, probably about midnight and Brian’s a little bit completely stoned. Staring up at the tiny, wobbly cluster of glow-in-the-dark stars pasted to his ceiling.

His heart is going a million miles an hour and his cheeks feel hot and he’s got sweaty palms and it’s all Mat, curled up on his side on the other side of the bed. He’s what’s doing this to Brian. 

Brian sneaks a glance across at Mat and lets himself linger a little bit. Mat’s fast asleep, out like a fucking light. He won’t wake up and catch Brian at it and anyway, Brian’s done weirder things than being caught looking just a little too long. 

His heart flutters again, just like butterflies. 

He thinks about kissing Mat and has to take a deep breath and hold it because suddenly the butterflies are more like birds, wings beating against his ribcage and fluttering, panicked, at the base of his throat. It’s a good feeling, against all odds. It’s making him smile so hard it’s difficult to keep his breath in and he lets it out in a loud burst. 

Mat doesn’t even stir and Brian turns over onto his side to face him. It feels a little bit like cheating, getting to look at him like this, but whatever, whatever, he’s not hurting anyone. 

It’s just a stupid high school crush and it’s going to go away eventually but in the meanwhile Brian thinks he really likes having a crush on Mat. 

He hides his grin in his arm and closes his eyes even though he doesn’t think he’ll get to sleep.

//

It gets warmer and Brian keeps reminding himself the crush will go away.

It’s March and the snow starts melting patchily and Mat starts wearing ugly fleece cardigans that are way too big for him. He pulls his hands into the sleeves, picks at the hem, and Brian pretends it isn’t making his chest hurt with how hard his heart is beating. It’s just too- too much, and Brain grins at it dizzily when he’s too distracted to catch himself at it. 

Mat doesn’t ask, though he does pull his arms into the sweater and then smack Brian with a loose sleeve.

It’s just been a month, Brian assures himself and then tackles Mat into a wet, slushy snowbank. There’s no ulterior motive to shoving a handful of slush down the back of Mat’s shirt, just plain being an asshole.

//

He doesn’t think about Mat most of the time. He tries not to, at least. He tries to keep his thoughts from wandering to _what if_ or _maybe_.

It’ll go away, just give it time. It’s not _real_.

//

Brian kisses a girl at a party in April. It’s good. Her name’s Bree and she laughs at his stupid jokes and says she’ll say hi if she sees him around school. Brian doesn’t think she will but she’s nice and a good kisser so, maybe.

Mat kisses another, different girl at another, different party. 

Later, they have a sleepover. It’s just like middle school, just like elementary school even. He tells Brian about the kissing. 

“She totally let me touch her tits and,” Mat ducks his head, “Shit, dude.”

“Don’t jizz your shorts,” Brian teases and then laughs when Mat throws a packet of parmesan cheese topping at him. 

“She didn’t even care I couldn’t stand up, man. It was good,” Mat says with that shyly pleased smile Brian can read like traffic signs. “I like her.” 

Brian expects to be jealous of the kissing but he isn’t. Mostly it just makes him think about _himself_ kissing Mat. 

He thinks it’d be sort of… rough. Stubbly or something. Brian’s never kissed a boy before but he’s kissed a girl – obviously – and he’s pretty sure the mechanics are similar. Theoretically, boys have mouths too. Theoretically, it’d be almost the same. 

It’d be different, probably, because Brian has a crush on him and he doesn’t have a crush on a girl. 

He imagines it’d been Mat instead of Bree and it doesn’t take a whole lot of work to make it fit. He’d liked Bree because she’d been weird and laughed at all his jokes and had fucked up hair she ran her hands through like it didn’t matter if she fucked it up even more. Mat already laughs at all his jokes, is a weird motherfucker at the best of times and doesn’t comb his hair ever. 

He’s managed to drop an entire slice’s worth of pizza toppings down his front when he tunes back in and Mat’s laughing at him so hard he can’t even form words. Brian pushes him over onto his side and slumps off to find a paper towel. He’s bright red and maybe a little thankful he’s got a slice of pizza to blame it on.

//

Mat goes home the next day and Brian spends a few hours laying around and staring at the ceiling. There’s a thought he’s poking around the edges of. More like A Thought really, all in capital letters and everything. A big thought, the kind of thought that deserves time and attention to really have.

It’s been three months, he thinks carefully. Three months since the moment on the steps of their high school that had turned Brian’s chest inside out. Three months, and his heart is still skipping beats when Mat smiles just at him, he still wants to knot his fingers into Mat’s fucking ridiculous rats-nest hair and yank him in to kiss him. 

It’s not just a high school crush anymore. 

Brian sighs and throws his arm over his face. That’s the thought he’d been carefully edging around. He can’t really ignore it anymore, not without outright lying to himself. Which he’s not above doing, he supposes, but really. 

“Having a sulk?” his mom asks from the doorway. 

Brian yelps in shock, nearly punching himself in the face and overbalancing off the couch to land on his knees. It stings and he bites back a swear, clutching at them clumsily. 

His mom is watching him when he’s done massaging his aching knees, eyebrows raised sarcastically. She’s smiling and trying to hide it. 

“Go away, mom,” he says grumpily and she laughs, turning away in the doorway. It’s broken the spell, though. He’s alone again but it feels less dire. It feels manageable. 

He goes out to the backyard, lays down in the grass even though it’s April and definitely not warm enough yet. His mom’s in the kitchen with the windows shut and won’t hear him even if he shouts. 

“I have a crush on Mat Uychich for real,” he tells the silent backyard. Nothing answers him but he feels better anyway, for having said it. It feels kind of freeing. 

“I want to kiss Mat Uychich,” he continues and then has to roll over in the grass and shove his face into it because, Jesus, he can’t stop the blush. It’s hot and sweet and stupidly embarrassing. He presses his face into moist dirt and cold grass and grins madly. His chest-birds are back, pounding against his ribs. 

“I’m really fucking gay for Mat and it’s amazing and I don’t want it to go away,” he surmises into the grass. He’s pretty sure it’s unintelligible but doesn’t care, that isn’t even the point. He’s said it, said it out loud in front of God and everything. 

He turns back over and stares up at the sky. The sun’s starting to set even though it’s only like six in the evening, turning the sky orange and pink. 

Now that he’s got a real crush on Mat, he realizes, it _means_ something. He’s got to do something about it, possibly. He wants to, at least. At least put it out there, get it out of his chest where the secret’s been kept this whole time. Even if Mat doesn’t want to kiss him back. Not a big deal, really. It won’t change anything, Brian’s absolutely certain of that. Mat’ll be cool no matter what. 

“I’m going to tell him,” he decides aloud. “I’m gonna tell him tomorrow.” 

The backyard still doesn’t answer him and he turns right back over to press his hot face into the grass. He’s scared as hell but he’s excited too.

//

“Hey,” he says to Mat the next day.

It’s possible he’s a little delirious with sleep deprivation. It’s possible, maybe, he’d stayed up all night because of this. Failing to stop himself thinking about Mat, wondering if _maybe, maybe_. 

The thing is, maybe. Mat and he, they’d always been touchy or whatever. There’d always been something a little extra. Maybe it’s… Mat having feelings too. Brian can dream – has dreamed. Wants very, very badly. 

He’d come to school early, waited next to Mat’s locker to be totally sure he’d catch him. Practiced what he’d say in his head over and over. ‘So, dude, I think I’m a little gay for you,’ maybe. If Mat tried to let him down gently he’d just… he’d deal with it, something like ‘don’t even sweat it man, bros for life am I right’. If he… fuck, Brian can’t even _think_ about if Mat maybe likes him _back_. 

“Hey,” Mat says and he’s grinning like he’s about to explode. “Man, dude, I have to tell you something, it’s crazy.” 

“Oh, cool,” Brian says and bounces in place nervously. “I kinda do to-,” 

“She said yes,” Mat breaks in. 

The bottom drops out of Brian’s stomach. 

“…what?” he asks and his voice comes out blank with shock. 

“The girl I kissed at the party, Cara,” Mat says and he’s still grinning. He looks beautiful, eyes shining, hair a massive mess, whole face folded up with happiness. It makes something churn, sick and miserable in Brian’s gut. “I asked her out and she said yes.” 

“Oh,” Brian says, breath leaving all at once like Mat had kicked him in the stomach. He feels sick. 

A moment later he hoists up a grin and slaps Mat on the shoulder. It jolts Mat into the lockers. Brian might have misjudged the force of his slap. He’s not thinking totally clearly, it feels like there’s something in his head that hasn’t kicked into motion yet. 

“Dude, that’s great!” he says. “Holy shit, I’m so happy for you!”

Mat grins at him, rubbing at his shoulder. His expression is absent and far away. 

“Thanks man,” he says and runs his hands through his hair, an unconscious happy movement that Brian hates very very much. “What’d you want to tell me?” 

Brian can’t answer him for a moment but he doesn’t have to. The bell rings instead. 

“Tell you later,” he says, and hefts his backpack onto his shoulder and walks away.

//

He leaves to go to the bathroom halfway through his first class and doesn’t come back. He walks all the way home instead, tucking his hands into his pockets and ignoring his phone vibrating against his knuckles. It’s still kind of crisp in the shade, an echo of the winter even though it’s deep into spring. He can’t stop thinking of that moment in February, that moment and how he’d thought it was a meaningless high school crush.

How stupidly teen movie cliché, Brian thinks bitterly and then feels guilty for the thought. He likes movies about high school, most of the time. 

He doesn’t like them when he’s living them, he decides. He doesn’t like it when the ugly dramatic irony is catching him in the face like a misaimed ball in gym class. And he doubts he’s getting a climactic prom scene or quietly romantic moment of realization in this one. He’s pretty sure he’s just the weird alternative best friend and he’s going to bow out graceful in the third act. 

Brian’s never done a thing gracefully in his life but he decides, kicking a pebble into a ditch bad-temperedly, that Mat deserves at least a decent attempt. 

His mom’s not home when he unlocks the front door so he locks it quietly behind him and climbs up to his room. He’s got hours before Mat wises up to the fact Brian’s skipped school, and hours after that before anyone comes looking for him. Enough time to put together a really good playlist and resolutely not cry. Hopefully enough time to think up a gameplan for how he’s going to make it through the next… 

Shit, he’s got two more years of this shit. Fucking high school.

//

He realizes eventually that dodging Mat’s attempts to get all three of them to hang out together is more suspicious than gritting his teeth through an hour or so of forced conversation. It takes a week but Mat doesn’t seem to notice so Brian doesn’t bother apologizing, just agrees to the next plan Mat offers.

They meet up at a little diner on the far side of town with amazing fries and endearingly terrible coffee. Mat and Cara sit on one side of the booth, together, and Brian’s all on his own on the other side. The metaphor really doesn’t escape Brian. He’s not a fan but he’s resigned now. He’s third-wheeling so hard he kind of wants to go up to the next tricycle he sees to apologize. 

Cara’s sweet. 

He’s not super pleased about that, honestly. Wishes he could hate her on good conscience, that she had something about her that would justify his hot jealousy, something he could use to make Mat break up with her. And, yeah, Brian knows he’s being selfish but he honestly thinks he should be given an award just for sitting through something that sucks as bad as this. 

Cara’s nice and cute and funny in a cutting way that normally Brian would love but he mostly just hates on principle right now. Mat’s absolutely enchanted with her, Brian can read it loud and clear on his face. 

He sits on the other side of the booth and laughs at Mat’s jokes, smiles close-mouthed at Cara’s jokes, makes a couple of awkward jokes of his own. He’s pretty sure he’s selling it. He’s pretty sure neither of them know he’s got a crush on Mat, even though sometimes he would swear it has to be tattooed on his face with how often he thinks about it. 

He’s pretty sure they’re holding hands under the table. 

He smiles and takes another bite out of his burger even though he’s not hungry at all.

//

May sucks.

//

Brian doesn’t hate Cara. He likes her, reluctantly.

She’s rude sometimes in a way Brian can really relate to. It’s easy to talk to her, even when Mat’s there watching them and Brian can’t believe neither of them have figured out how much he wishes Mat were looking at _him._

They’re not together all the time, anyway. Mat still calls him up or drags him off to do stupid shit. They skip class to break into some rich dude’s heated pool on the nicest side of town and spend all day splashing around in it. Inevitably they lose track of time and have to flee shivering and half-naked into the woods behind the house when they realize the guy is pulling into his driveway. It’s good, fun even. 

He hates everything. 

Having a crush on Mat fucking sucks.

//

He doesn’t really mean that. He still gets fluttery feelings in his chest and sweaty palms sometimes, usually when Mat’s doing something stupid and cool and grinning all shy and sly like he does. Honestly he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

//

June dawns hot and Brian doesn’t actually really want a party or anything. He’s just turning seventeen, it’s not a big deal like sixteen had been and eighteen will be. But Mat offers to set up a party, not even a big one, and he’s smiling so hopefully.

Brian discovers he can’t actually say no to Mat like that. 

He lets Mat do all the work and shows up to his own party in a wrinkled sweater and ripped jeans and shoes that are too dirty to pass for artfully distressed. It’s not a big party, just like Mat had promised. Just a few friends in the basement of a sort-of friend’s house, a stack of six-packs and a bong that he snags almost as soon as he’s in the door. 

Mat’s there, which, of course. Cara is too, which, of course. They’re not sitting together though, and Brian takes the cushion next to Mat and resolves not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“Hey,” Mat says and grins at him in a blurry way that means he’s been here an hour at least, smoking this whole time. 

“’Sup,” Brian says back and bends to take a hit. When he comes back up Mat’s watching him and the grin hasn’t left, soft and faded like a dream, and Brian wants to reach out to thumb at his lower lip. He bends back down instead, takes another hit and tries to make the desire leave with the cloud of white smoke. 

Mat shifts to nudge him in the side, elbow warm and cushioned in one of his awful, ugly oversized fleece cardigans. He’s got his hands tucked up into the sleeves, Brian notes, when Mat reaches out and pulls the bong from his slack hands. The pot is already threading into his head and making thoughts smeary and difficult to follow. 

“Happy birthday, man,” Mat whispers, smoke leaking from his mouth with the words, and grins at him slyly. His eyes are pot-squinty and dark. It makes it hard for Brian to breathe. 

His heart is beating too hard in his chest and he really, really wishes he were a hundred miles from here. 

Listen, he wants to say, you’ve gotta stop smiling at me because I'm kind of uncomfortable with my level of intensity here. Listen, he wants to say, you're my best friend and I'd give an embarrassingly significant portion of my anatomy to kiss you. Listen, he wants to say. Just listen, god, I'm so in love with you and it's ruining my goddamn motherfucking birthday party. 

He doesn't say that. 

“Pass the fucking bong, douchebag,” he says instead. Mat passes the fucking bong.

//

He hides out in the bathroom for half an hour, smuggling a beer in with him to sip at moodily. It’s possibly the least fun he’s ever had a party in his entire life, including the time Mat drank too much and vomited cheese pizza and cheap beer all over Brian’s new shoes. Then, at least, he’d had Mat.

He leaves when he can’t stand himself anymore and goes back to the main room because his options are sort of limited. That, and he doesn’t want to have to explain to Mat why he’d ditched his own birthday party to go… smoke up alone in his room, probably. Jesus. 

Cara’s sitting next to Mat and they’re not talking to each other but their thighs are pressed together. It’s a stupidly insignificant detail and Brian tries not to think about it as he flops down on the ground. It’s as good a place to sit as any. 

“Happy birthday!” Cara tells him and he smiles at her, makes a peace sign with his fingers and then closes his eyes.

//

June sucks. He wakes up from his birthday hungover in the bathtub and has to walk home alone with a back ache.

School sucks, too. Cara and Mat are sweet and Brian spends more time with other people. It’s probably better for his social life. He’s going out more, doing more things with more people. Having fun – he’s not like, weeping all day every day or anything. 

He answers every time Mat calls, though.

//

The last day of school is hot and sweaty and kind of perfect, in a way. It’s uncomfortable and Brian hadn’t gotten a yearbook or anything so he’s collecting signatures and phone numbers and cheesy insincere well-wishes in the back of his math notebook. Mat didn’t get one either.

“Gimme,” he says at the beginning of homeroom and steals the notebook out from under Brian’s elbow. He’s bent over it for the whole hour, even when Brian stops paying attention to the teacher entirely and starts flicking scraps of paper at him. He only hands it over right before the bell. 

There’s a dick, big and veiny and detailed, splashed across a full spread of pages. It’s covering every single one of the signatures and phone numbers and Brian laughs so hard the teacher glares at him. 

“Fuck you,” he whispers to Mat, who just grins and gives him a thumbs-up before hopping away. 

Mat drags Brian down the hall and out the door just before the last class of the day. They don’t go far, Mat just drives them out to the closest park and climbs onto the hood of the car. He’s sipping a Pepsi that has to be at least three months old and warm and flat as hell. Brian wants to kiss the sickly-sweet taste out of his mouth. 

He looks out at a cluster of little kids pushing each other over in the sandbox instead. 

“Haven’t seen you, lately,” Mat says into the comfortable silence. Brian doesn’t move his eyes and when he feels like he can breathe again he goes for a casual shrug. Mat’s not right, exactly, but they haven’t been just the two of them in a week and a half, maybe more. Not so long in the grand scheme of things, but... 

“You’ve been busy,” he says. 

Mat hums and takes another sip of his warm soda. He’s not looking, Brian discovers when he peeks over, he’s watching the kids in the sandbox too. There’s a pensive quirk to the corners of his mouth that doesn’t really go away when he glances over and catches Brian looking. 

“I think I’m going to break up with Cara,” Mat says suddenly and there’s a moment of déjà vu where Brian’s stomach is swooping and there’s something dizzy going off behind his eyes. He keeps his face straight even though it’s an effort and when he manages to unstick his jaw he’s reaching out clumsily to pat Mat on the shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, “You like her a lot, man, shouldn’t you think about this?”

He’s not sure what he’s doing except that Cara makes Mat happy and Brian wants Mat to be happy. Probably he should be leaping with joy or encouraging this or… well, Brian doesn’t like any of those ideas. Doesn’t want to be that person, especially not to Mat. 

“I don’t love her or anything,” Mat says and laughs. It doesn’t sound totally happy but it does sound very certain. “And I, y’know, don’t think I will. It’s not, like… fair.” 

“Alright,” Brian says because he wants to be a good person but there are limits. “Well… just think about it first, okay? Don’t rush.” 

Mat makes an indistinct noise and waves the can lazily. Brian doesn’t press it and Mat finishes the last of his Pepsi in comfortable silence, watching a kid in the sandbox determinedly shovel handful after handful of sand down his pants.

//

He knows as soon as he opens the door and finds Mat on his porch.

Mat’s all pulled into himself for one thing, arms tucked around himself. He looks smaller than ever. 

“I broke up with her,” Mat says simply and Brian grabs him into a hug. Mat goes without a hint of resistance, gripping the back of Brian’s sweater with both hands and holding on tight. He’s tense but when Brian finally lets him go his face is clear. A little sad, maybe, but his eyes are only a little red and he smiles when Brian pokes him in the cheek. 

He’d expected to feel happy but he doesn’t. Mostly, he’s just worried. 

“You okay?” Brian asks quietly. 

“Yeah,” Mat says and runs a hand self-consciously through his hair. “I was, like, y’know. If you don’t mind, I kinda want to just hang out? For a while.” 

“Of course, dude,” Brian says softly and shoves Mat gently into the house in the direction of the couch. There’s a stack of shitty FPS games and another stack of equally shitty comedies with their names on them.

//

“I wasn’t in love with her,” Mat says, three bowls and five solid hours later. Brian doesn’t even connect his words with meanings at first, just shoots an Elite in the head and then pauses the game when he finally processes.

“Yeah?” he asks tentatively and tries really hard to ignore the petty little thing in his chest that wants to celebrate. 

“I thought it was but,” Mat toes at the ground and doesn’t look at Brian, stares absently at his feet instead. “I think it’s a different feeling. I need to like… give it some thought.” 

“Whatever you need, man,” Brian says and starts the game again.

//

June passes slow and sweet and it feels like Brian’s burning up inside.

Mat’s everywhere again, always in Brian’s peripheral vision. Always a hand on his arm or kicking him idly in the leg. Brian hates it – the way he’s always jumping when it happens, the way he leans into it without thinking like there’s anything there but friendship. It’s Mat readjusting to being single or something. He still wouldn’t give it up for anything, not a single moment. 

Anyways Mat’s happier, Brian thinks. Subdued maybe, but happy. It’s not a big deal so long as that’s true.

//

“Hey, what are you doing today?” Mat asks as soon as Brian opens the door.

It’s early July and hot as hell and Brian had woken up maybe twenty minutes ago. He hasn’t had a coffee or anything to eat, hasn’t showered, hasn’t done much of anything that isn’t yawn and stumble around and scratch his balls. 

“Whatever you planned, pro’lly,” Brian answers and yawns in Mat’s face. Mat doesn’t seem phased, pushing past him into the house. He beelines for the hissing coffeepot, pulls it out and pours himself a mug without asking. Brian steals it out of his hand in retaliation and takes a sip, trying not to let on that it’s burning his tongue. 

Mat’s buzzing, fidgeting in place, everything short of tap-dancing. He’s staring at Brian too, over his massive grin. Brian watches him back blearily over the rim of the mug. 

“So what’s up?” Brian asks at last, when about half the mug is in him. He’s marginally awake so he knows to pull his eyes away when Mat’s grin lights up his face. 

“We’re going swimming,” he announces and Brain laughs, taking another sip of hot, bitter coffee. “Lake swimming.” 

“Alright, but you’re buying me breakfast,” he says and downs the rest of his mug in one go.

//

It’s the sort of perfect summer day Brian’s pretty sure he should be filming or something, something out of an Anderson movie. The colors seem too perfect, the water too green and the sky too blue, lake almost deserted on a Thursday afternoon. There’s a thermos of cold coffee in the cab of Mat’s truck and a few bags of chips for later but in the meanwhile Brian’s too full up on how perfect everything is to eat. Mat laughs and cannonballs off the rocks into the water.

Brian doesn’t think about _Mat_ and _water_ because he’s too busy following Mat in, a clean jump that leaves him winded and gasping for breath when he breaches the surface. There’s water up his nose, aching and bitter, and he snorts it out and grins and grins until his cheeks hurt. 

They swim for hours until Brian’s body feels like spaghetti and he’s exhausted. It feels soft and sugary, like cotton candy clouding in his head. Mat hasn’t stopped grinning the whole time and Brian doesn’t think he’s ever been happier. 

“Food,” he demands at last, dropping down to lay on his back in the pebbly sand. The sun’s hot on his skin despite the wetness and he grins up into it for a moment, closing his eyes and absorbing the scarlet glow against his eyes. He’s getting a sunburn, he can tell, and he doesn’t even care. 

Mat beaches next to him, flopping down and dribbling cold lakewater all over Brian. Unthinking, Brian turns his head to look, laughing and scrubbing at the cold spots where the water had hit him. 

Mat’s looking at him. There’s something there Brian doesn’t recognize, in Mat’s expression. 

He smiles at it tentatively and Mat smiles back. It doesn’t make the weird look in his eyes go away and Brian pulls himself to his feet. He’s suddenly anxious, something about the way Mat’s watching him. 

“Food,” he repeats and bounces in place until Mat’s also scrambled up, brushing the worst of the sand and dirt from his back. Then he’s off, practically jogging to escape the anxious feeling swimming through his stomach. Food will help, he thinks, will settle his stomach and distract Mat from – whatever it was that was making him stare like that. 

It was just… very intense. 

He gets twenty feet up the trail to where Mat had parked his car when Mat’s hand catches him by the wrist. It pulls him up short and he freezes for a moment. Turning takes actual effort, the casually curious smile he hauls to his lips more so. 

“Hey,” Mat says and pauses a moment. He’s watching Brian. Brian still can’t read his expression. 

Then he’s pressing up into Brian’s space, leaning up on his toes. Brian doesn’t understand, can’t process it until Mat’s mouth is pressing against his. 

It’s soft and hot under the chill of lakewater, wet and sweet and Brian catches Mat by the soaking sleeve of his t-shirt just for something to hold onto. He can’t pull away, couldn’t even if he wanted to, just holds on tight and kisses back as hard as he can. It’s like a bonfire in his ribcage, roaring up brilliant and hot and consuming every butterfly Brian’s ever had in a bright flash. 

Mat’s breathless when he finally pulls back, mouth red and bottom lip faintly bruised-looking. He’s smiling tentatively, something bright in his eyes Brian just can’t recognize. 

“-What?” Brian asks and his voice comes out faint and cracking. He still hasn’t let go of Mat’s sleeve. He’s fucking cold except where Mat’s body is still close enough he can feel the warmth. He wants to press in closer, press more kisses to Mat’s red mouth, touch until the cold is nowhere to be found. 

Mat shrugs and then leans up again, pressing a kiss to Brian’s mouth that lands slightly off-center, catches his lower lip more than anything. Brian doesn’t kiss back this time, is still frozen in place. 

“C’mon,” Mat mutters into the bare inch of space between them. His voice presses against Brian’s cheek in a soft puff of warm air and he turns into it helplessly, bending to meet Mat’s mouth. He feels like each kiss is burning him up inside and he can’t think through it, can’t process anything but abject confusion and, deeper down, something in his chest going _yes, yes, yes_. 

His hand’s made its way into Mat’s hair, he discovers when he pulls back for a moment to breathe. He can’t make himself let go of it, knots his fingers in even tighter. 

“No, wait,” he pants and tries to ignore the way Mat’s watching him, eyes half-lidded and dark. “Seriously, Mat, what?” 

Mat’s eyes drop for a moment and when they come back up they’re brighter, a little uncertain but still gleaming. 

“I like being with you,” Mat says plainly. 

Brian is pretty sure every bird in the world has come to nest in his chest. He doesn’t even know if his heart is even beating. It doesn’t feel like it. 

“Oh,” he says, though it’s more like an exhale than a word. 

“I think I like, y’know, want to give it a try,” Mat continues and he’s smiling that sly, shy little smile. “If you’re like, down with it.” 

Brian is pretty sure when he opens his mouth his heart is going to fall out. 

“Yeah,” he breathes anyway, shifts his grip in Mat’s tangled hair and pulls him in again for another kiss. “Yeah, yeah, so do I.”


End file.
